


More than our scars

by Katywritesdrarry (whatkatywrotenext)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drarry, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fuckin' Fluffy Mondays, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, One Shot, Pre-Half-Blood Prince, Severus Snape Has a Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatkatywrotenext/pseuds/Katywritesdrarry
Summary: Draco's mistake becomes Harry's problem.





	More than our scars

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Turn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/879852) by [Saras_Girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saras_Girl/pseuds/Saras_Girl). 



> So, after I had reread Turn (which you can find a link to above) - I wanted to write about the night that Draco got the dark mark. This was totally inspired by Saras_Girl whose work is always far, far beyond my ability. But, I wanted to pay homage to the amazing story she started. 
> 
> Complete one shot.

**That Night.**

They sat frozen in the hospital wing, barely daring to move, Draco under the covers and Harry under his cloak.

Harry was perched on the single bed frame by Draco’s legs like a rather large and clumsy cat. Neither of them made a sound until the footsteps began to quieten and Madame Pomfrey disappeared into her office.

They allowed themselves a sigh of relief. Draco’s hands remained by his side, tucked under a thick duvet with tight hospital corners. Harry’s hands placed on top of the covers. Before Harry stood, jerking the corner of the tight duvet back and sliding a hand under. Draco felt a warm hand covering his, softer that he had imagined, thumb stroking his palm to slow rhythm.

Normally, Draco would protest to this. Hand holding wasn’t all that common for Malfoys. However, these were unusual circumstances and Harry’s firm grip made Draco feel oddly calm.

Still, he’d punch the idiot if he told anyone.

“You hungry Malfoy?” Came a quiet whisper.

“Who the bloody hell is hungry at a time like this?” Draco snapped quietly. 

Silence.

“Well, me, I suppose,” Harry mumbled sadly, and he sounded so ridiculous that Draco snorted. Harry joined in and before they could help it, the laughter echoed through the hospital, the noise bouncing off the towering stone walls. The kind of unstoppable laughter that rises from your chest involuntarily.

“Shit, shit, she’s coming back, put the fucking cloak on Potter,” Draco whispered hurriedly, a bubble of laughter escaping him. Harry pulled the cloak over himself, hand wedged firmly over his mouth to quiet the snorts of laughter just as Madame Pomfrey and her lantern swung around the corner, making long strides towards Draco. Her shoes clacking on the stone floor.

She approached the bed, “Mr Malfoy!” she started, exasperation written all over face, glancing around the empty room.

Draco bowed his head, hoping he looked suitably guilty, as he bit down the inside of his cheek to stop the smile threatening his face.

The hand continued to grip his.

**Earlier, that night.**

Draco Malfoy pinned himself to the chair, stock still. There was a fanciful part of him that felt that if he remained still and quiet, no one would notice his sixteen-year-old, gangly teenage form. He allowed himself a glance around the large oak table, where The Dark Lord impatiently tapped his bony fingers against the table.

“I won’t ask you again, Draco,” Lucius whispered, voice cold and emotionless. Lip curling with annoyance.

Draco inhaled a lungful of air, fingers twisting in his robes, before standing on unsteady legs. He followed his father through to the library of Malfoy Manor. The room was small, floor to ceiling shelves, lined with books that filled every crevice, bar a small gap for the fire.

Draco shuffled on the hardwood floors towards the two comfortable armchairs that remained inviting. Draco had loved this room, and now, his life would be ruined in here.

There was an irony in that somewhere.

Lucius gestured The Dark Lord over to the right armchair, the bigger of the two and Lucius took the other, leaving Draco standing before them like a naughty child. Lucius ran cold eyes over Draco and nodded at him, and whilst Draco knew he was expected to kneel, he couldn't seem to instruct his legs to comply.

In the horrible dreams that Draco had experienced almost nightly in the weeks leading up to this moment, he had been unable to move, feet glued to the floor. Unfortunately, this time Draco knew he would not wake up from this tucked comfortably under his Slytherin quilt.

“Draco.” Lucius snapped. “Show. Some. Respect.” He continued slowly, tone even, but Draco could hear the cold fury.

Draco instinctively dropped to his knees and bowed his head, just like he had seen the others do. The Dark Lord remained silent, before outstretching a single, terrifying arm towards him. Draco complied, head still bowed, holding out his left arm, unable to hide the tremor. He took several deep gulps of air in the silence to steady it, flashing a glance over to his father, who rolled his eyes at Draco’s shaking limb. There was a small flash and Draco's arm seized, completely immovable. 

Draco glanced up again, his father’s face full of contempt as he returned his hands to his lap. Draco recognised the stiff feeling as a wandless statis spell. Draco could very much feel the arm, but at least it was steady. He supposed he should feel grateful to his father, but in that moment all he could feel was hatred. Draco inhaled quietly, desperately attempting to ignore his rapid heartbeat.

The Dark Lord whispered slow incantations, before pressing his wand to Draco’s pale skin.

The pain was instantaneous. Draco was on fire, every inch of him scalded. He yelped involuntarily, heart racing in his throat. The Dark Lord paused and met exasperated eyes with Lucius. 

Lucius immediately stood, apologetic and frustrated, taking short steps to where Draco kneeled, casting a quick body bind spell. Draco felt his body tense, unable to move, voices surrounding him like a fog. Before the unnatural, white-hot pain moved through every part of his body in the silent room. Draco’s head frozen in a bow, like some pathetic toy soldier. 

After it was done, the dark lord lent in towards him and the smell that Draco couldn't quite get used to filled every inch of his lungs.

Decaying flowers thought Draco, sweet and unnatural.

The Dark Lord leaned in and placed a kiss on Draco's forehead. Draco was suddenly glad for the bodybind spell as internally he cringed, feeling bile in his throat. His father brushed past him, whispering ‘Finite Incantatem’ through gritted teeth. 

Draco felt his whole body sag to the floor. He pulled himself upright, willing his legs to move. Stumbling to his feet, clutching the shelves that he would climb as a child, Draco stood inhaling deeply. Draco took several ragged breaths, scrubbing at his eyes and smoothed down his robes. Before following his Father back into the drawing room.

He arrived to cheering and wide grins from all bar his mother. She sat in silence, a blank expression on her face, but when Draco met her large blue eyes she couldn't hide her fear for her only son. Draco wanted to reassure her, but smiling was impossible and he could feel tears threatening his weary eyes.

Exhaustion was a feeling Draco had become accustomed to over the past few weeks, from a lack of sleep and a reputation to uphold. Draco considered that if he could do absolutely anything right now, it would be, quite simply, to lie down and go to sleep.

Instead, Draco pulled out a chair and sat back down, aware of what tomorrow would hold – the terrible thing he had to do.

Snape’s mouth remained a grim line, as he offered to return him to Hogwarts. Snape stood and nodded at Draco, who instinctively followed. They traveled in silence, but when Snape thought he wasn't looking Draco could see something like regret written on his pale face. 

Once back in the castle, the familiar smell of parchment and bread filling Draco’s lungs, he made his way up the stairs to the Slytherin common room. Thankfully, it was empty, his peers enjoying their meal, not planning a murder.

Draco changed, careful to avoid anything touching his left forearm, which remained hot and painful and began climbing the stairs to the bathroom. A long, quiet bath was what Draco needed. 

He closed the door firmly behind him and rolled up his sleeve to inspect the mark, hissing in pain, eyes burning with tears of frustration. The bathroom was empty, aside from Moaning Myrtle, who instantly recoiled at the mark. Her mouth agape.

"No Draco!" She shouted, backing herself towards the wall. The fear was written all over her face, mouth agape.

Draco felt panic rising in his chest. He had an odd sort of friendship with Myrtle, he didn't think he could cope without his only confidant. He just needed to explain, to take a deep breath and explain the logic behind his position. 

“He’ll kill me,” Draco spat, tears falling from his eyes before he could stop them. All logical words had left him now, all he had was raw emotions and it was unfamiliar territory. He just needed someone, anyone to understand. Myrtle had disappeared, and once again, Draco was alone. 

Loud noisy sobs bounced off the walls of the silent bathroom, it took Draco a few seconds to realise the noise was coming from him. Chest and shoulders heaving, Draco cried for the fucking injustice of the whole thing. He had only ever done as he was told, nodded and agreed instinctively. There had never been any room for his thoughts when dictators like Lucius Malfoy took up so much of his head. He was too tired to fight for something he wasn't even sure he believed in and he was tired of being hated. As Draco heard himself howl, he considered just how lonely it was being him.

It took Draco a second to notice that the noisy clatter on the other side of the bathroom was the large brown door clanking open. 

Draco whipped his head around, to see Potter stood there, eyebrows knitted in confusion and something like concern. Draco instinctively grabbed at his wand. Harry’s inquisitive green eyes meeting Draco’s blurred vision.

Draco tried to summon up a spell, but it was a futile exercise, his shaking hands could barely hold his bloody wand. The pain of his arm and heart and head burning furiously, Draco dropped to his knees. What hope was there for him? Draco ignored the sound of his wand clattering by his feet and continued heaving sobs into the silence.

Harry stepped closer towards him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“No one can help me.” Draco sobbed, desperately trying to catch his breath through the tears. Then, he felt a hand, gripping his. Knees joining him on the damp floor. Not like the cold hands of the people that used their strong palms to push Draco into Dark Marks and wandless spells. But a hand of warmth, offered only in comfort.

“We have to tell Dumbledore,” Harry replied after the sobs began to subside. His voice firm and trusting.

“What part of he will _kill me_ don’t you understand, we’re not all like you Potter,” Draco snapped back, “I won’t come out of a fight with him, we don’t all survive with just a scar!” Voice ragged, Draco ran his damp hands over swollen eyes.

“You have to trust me Malfoy.” Harry whispered, voice low and steady. And there was something in that voice that unusually made Draco want to comply. 

"You can trust me." Harry's eyes met Draco's, full of concern and sincerity. 

They stood, knees damp from the cold floor, Draco’s eyes and arm burning. Clutching onto Harry for support. As once again, Draco had to find a way to stand up when all he wanted to do was sleep.

Then, a brightly lit office and concerned faces, questions that went on for hours. Snape gesturing frantically. Harry silent, Dumbledore waving them both out and into the hospital. Where Potter was sent straight up to bed and Draco was alone. Madame Pomfrey, cleaning his face and arms, offering him sympathy and pyjamas that Draco felt undeserving of. She hid her disgust of the mark on Draco’s arm and chatted continually about the weather and the Quidditch results, before tucking him into bed, under corners so tight he could hardly breathe.

Draco lay in the silence. He could hear a shuffling noise across the floor, he glanced frantically at the empty hospital wing, frozen with fear at the sound of footsteps. There was no Dumbledore to save him now. Draco searched the empty ward, neck aching, trying to source the noise, as Harry revealed himself. Harry stood grinning like an idiot in matching blue and white striped pyjamas, feet bare on the cold tiles. 

“Of course _you_ would have a bloody invisibility cloak.” Draco mumbled. Feeling his muscles start to relax, the panic subsiding in his stomach.  

“I see you’re feeling more yourself, ferret face.” Harry replied quietly in playful tones, eyebrow quirked. He positioned himself at the end of the bed.

"Lovely pyjamas, Potter." Draco deadpanned. 

"You're just embarrassed that I wear them better, Malfoy." Harry grinned.

A brief silence passed and Draco shifted under the covers. 

"So, are you... OK?" Harry attempted, before catching Draco's eye. "Obviously not OK, OK, just it's weird when you're not being a wanker." Harry mumbled. 

"I do still have my wand, and I'm feeling 'OK' enough to hex you." Draco retorted. "Ow, you're sitting on my bloody legs."

Harry shifted his position. "Your legs are too bloody long." Harry mumbled crossly. 

"I happen to think I have lovely legs, Potter." Draco said darkly. 

"Stop calling me Potter, Malfoy, Draco." Harry replied in a rush. 

Draco snorted quietly, not quietly enough. A few close calls with Madame Pomfrey, Harry looked at Draco.

Draco cringed inwardly at how pathetic he must look, “Do you want me to go?” Harry asked, eyeing him with concern.

Draco said nothing, he couldn’t bring himself to say no, but he didn’t want to be alone. Not with the voice of Lucius swirling around his head. Draco said nothing but squeezed Harry's hand.  

“OK,” Harry said easily, understanding the words that Draco couldn’t say, “Well budge up then, I’m falling off the bloody bed here.” Harry gestured at the space.

Draco obliged. Offering Harry, the right half of the bed, where he lay side by side next to Draco on top of the tight covers. Draco instinctively pushed the duvet out of its tight hospital corners. Kicking the covers away so that Harry could share them.

In return, Draco received an odd look, but Harry complied, pulling the duvet over himself. Warm body against Draco’s as they both stared up at the ceiling, fingers still locked together. Draco began to breathe slowly, Harry made him feel safe. 

Draco squeezed the hand again. Hoping Harry would get the message.

“You’re welcome.” Came the whispered reply.

Harry began to unfurl his hand from Draco’s, to shift position, whilst Draco continued to grip Harry's palm. Panic once again rising in his chest at the thought of being alone with only his nightmares to keep him company. 

"I'm not going anywhere Draco." Harry whispered, correctly anticipating the unspoken question. Draco caught Harry's bemused expression and felt a flush creep across his face. 

Draco turned onto his side and away from Harry, face flushed red with embarrassment before strong arms draped over him protectively. Harry’s breath gentle on the back of Draco’s neck. The smell of toothpaste filled Draco’s nose, Harry’s thumb now resting on his chest, idly stroking him, flannel pyjamas the only thing in the way of skin on skin. Draco’s heartbeat quickening for no logical reason.

“You alright?” Harry mumbled into Draco’s neck.

Draco didn’t need to reply. His arm still stung, eyes scratchy from tears and lungs aching from ragged breaths. 

He reached up and squeezed Harry’s hand. Eyes closing, Draco was ok. 

The hand continued to grip his.


End file.
